


Souls at Zero

by monstersinthecosmos



Series: The Usher [8]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: M/M, Panic Attack, me RUDELY bringing up armand's shitty past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:39:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11517042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstersinthecosmos/pseuds/monstersinthecosmos
Summary: hold our hands, dear leaders. show the way, we need it. follow me and fear me and love me and fear me.





	Souls at Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Named after & written to [Souls at Zero](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWHTZX0oLlw) by Perturbator. Also, in addition to the usual INHERENT DANGER of writing VC fic, I lifted dialogue from canon so. Whoops don't sue me plz lol. This jumps around a little abruptly cause it was supposed to be a drabble and I talk too much while also being too lazy to commit a full-length fic to it LOL sorrryyyyyyy whatever. :D

_1983_

 

They were holding hands and strolling the wide, sparsely lit paths of Central Park and Armand felt it in the air.

“What’s wrong?” Daniel asked. Armand realized he’d stopped abruptly, and when he turned to look into Daniel’s face he saw the faint pain tightening his eyes. He was squeezing too hard. He immediately started and let go, drawing his hands into fists. His gaze stayed focused on Daniel as he listened for it. Daniel was shrinking back; the intensity must have frightened him, and it took Armand a moment to break away and look ahead on the path.

It felt old, _ancient_ even—the presence carried a familiar weight that settled in the pit of Armand’s stomach and rose in his throat like acid. He reached for Daniel’s hand again, mindful not to crush him this time. “Be quiet,” he mumbled.

 _What’s wrong, Armand?_ Daniel’s eyes went soft, pleading and worried. It was concern for Armand, but also the desperate, alarmed way he was trying to figure out what the threat could possibly be. He wasn’t coming up with any answers.

Armand was caught between them there for a moment. Feeling something so strong at one end, yet looking at Daniel and seeing such frailty. The contrast only made Daniel seem weaker, and Armand was paralyzed by the sudden need to _protect him._

“Don’t let go of my hand, Daniel.”

If they were the young ones he’d have annihilated them by now. Gone to them before they could sense him, taken them apart limb by limb. Left the pieces out for the sun to finish. But this, this. He felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. _Old._

Something furious and predatory inside was igniting; he could feel it heating his veins, trying to convince him to find them, destroy them, burn them. Even in the face of his own uncertainty, unsure of his own strength, there was this instinct. It took all his attention not to break Daniel’s hand as he pondered it.

But he couldn’t leave Daniel. No.

Just the idea of it had his insides twisting in knots.

 _Leave this place_ , he called out instead. _New York City is occupied by The Vampire Armand_.

And it receded. There was no answer but the gentle fading of its presence until he was able to settle back into the moment, and take stock of the scene around them. Daniel in the middle of the path, sulfuric lamplight lifting the edges of his hair from behind. The sounds of the trees around them and the ambient gush of the city beyond it. Daniel glowed there, the only vital thing in sight, the only thing of any importance.

“Armand?” Daniel reached his free hand to touch Armand’s hip. “Are you okay?”

The anger was still pulsing, and he was still rigid with it, stiff and unyielding as Daniel tried to press into him.

And…

He wasn’t.

His mouth opened to answer but his voice was suddenly stuck in his throat, so thick and dry that it felt like being choked.  And then he was trembling, and when he saw the look of shock on Daniel’s face in the yellow glow of the lamplights he flashed on the look of shock on Riccardo’s face, lit softly by the faint orange of the torches.

“Armand,” Daniel’s voice was strained and he was trying to pull away. “You’re hurting me, let go.”

“Oh,” his hand dropped and he turned to look around them again. Isolated, safe. He could sense someone sleeping ahead, just off the path, but no one else was nearby. The presence was gone and he knew he should relax now. Again that surging instinct like he needed to go on the attack, but the idea of leaving Daniel alone here was too frightening, and just the thought stung like an exposed nerve.

“Are you…” Daniel’s head tilted to the side as he stared, and his brow creased. Armand was so focused on listening for any sign of the presence again that he wasn’t paying attention to any of Daniel’s thoughts, and wasn’t understanding the expression on his face. The subtle dawning of recognition had eased his features. Concerned, but not surprised. The warm hand gently clasped Armand’s wrist. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

Still stark, but he relaxed into the weak pull of human strength, allowed Daniel to guide him further up the path. It took another tug, less gentle but just as powerless, to urge Armand to sit down on the wooden park bench. He pressed his nails into his own palms to hide how much he was shaking.

“Armand,” Daniel said. His voice was calm and even and he put his hand flat over Armand’s breastbone. “You don’t… have to breathe, do you?”

 _Deep breaths_ , Daniel was thinking it and projecting it in a steady rhythm that matched the way his hand was stroking up and down across Armand’s chest. _Deep breaths_.

“What are you doing, Daniel.”

“Try something?” he waited for Armand to raise an eyebrow in response before he continued. “Take deep breaths. Count to seven.”

Armand stared and Daniel let out a nervous chuckle.

“I’m serious! Inhale for seven.”

His free hand pushed a stray curl away from Armand’s eyes. _Deep breaths,_ he thought again, and Armand clenched his jaw but complied.

“Okay, now hold for seven. Exhale for seven,” he rubbed a small, comforting circle into Armand’s chest. The mortal warmth seeped through his clothing and he felt it permeate his skin. But… he was on his fourth inhale. His heart was slowing. There was a sense of tranquility in the spreading heat on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was fading so that he could gradually hear the sounds of the park again. By the sixth inhale he loosened his fists.

“Now stop,” Daniel whispered. He leaned in so that his lips brushed the edge of Armand’s ear. “Stop breathing.”

All the blood left his face.

But Daniel was right.

“Does this happen a lot?” he asked. Armand’s heart lurched and began to pound again, and Daniel must have felt it beneath his hand. He continued to rub back and forth.

“Does what happen a lot?” shallow breaths were happening and he tried to focus on breathing slowly, like Daniel had showed him.

“I think you’re having a panic attack, Boss. Does this happen a lot?”

“Panic attack?” he turned his head away and scowled at how shaky and uncertain he sounded. Stubbornness told him to say that it sounded like irrelevant mortal rubbish but he couldn’t find the energy.

“Just keep breathing.”

He could sense that Daniel wanted to ask what happened, _never seen him like that before_ , but had chosen the path of silence and reverence. It occurred to him that he could lie, protect Daniel by not frightening him, but the worry in his face seemed so genuine that it broke Armand’s heart a little bit.

“Someone was here,” he finally said.

Daniel’s hands had fallen into his lap and he was peeling away the corner of one his nails. “Someone, like… another vampire?”

“Yes.”

“But others have been around before, right?”

He shook his head but didn’t know how to explain. “It was different.” He considered conjuring the images for Daniel, to show him, but… he shuddered.

“Are you okay?” Daniel asked again. Armand had to blink a few times to clear his head. “Do you need to drink?”

He’d rolled up his sleeve and extended his wrist before Armand could answer. It tasted like benzos and when Armand pulled away everything had settled into a pleasant haze.

At the hotel later, as Daniel lay spent and sated, he mumbled from half-sleep: “Who was it before?”

He pushed Daniel’s bangs away from his face but didn’t answer. Gently, he slid back and tried to get up, but Daniel reached to grab his arm. His eyes had opened and were boring into Armand’s. Armand pet the side of his face and continued to stand.

“No one.”

“Armand.”

He smoothed his clothes down and faced away from the bed. The sky was getting lighter.  

“There are others, Daniel. They’re out there.”

“I know that.”

“I’ve thrown my shield around you but…” _they could take you_ , he wanted to say.  He turned so his back was to the window and looked down at the sleepy boy. Daniel’s eyes were fluttering, he was having trouble staying awake. Armand leaned down to kiss him. “Sleep, Daniel.”

He left though the window, scaling the fire escape and taking to the sky. He felt for the presence again from the safety of his coffin, staring up at nothing but blackness as he waited for the dawn. Old. Powerful. But gone. He saw Riccardo’s face again and tried to count to seven.

They met in Budapest two weeks later. Daniel answered the request, left with the desk of the hotel, and didn’t pry him about his disappearance. Armand could hear the unspoken accusations, the faint anger from having been neglected, and it only took until midnight for the frustration to bubble over.

“What was that shit about a shield, anyway?” he finally asked. Demanded, really, and had stopped dead in his tracks, right in the middle of the sidewalk in the _Városliget_. Armand crossed his arms over his chest.

“It’s to protect you, Daniel. They might not come for you if they know you’re mine.”

“So I’m yours now.”

Armand blinked. Daniel’s voice was becoming heated.

“I’m not a pet.”

“No, Daniel. You’ve misunderstood me,” Armand stepped forward and took Daniel’s hand. “But the others are out there. You must stay by my side. It worries me that they might know about you.”

“Make me what you are and worry no more.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he cupped Daniel’s cheek. A passing car splashed white light over them, quickly enough to seem like an illusion, and it made the violet gleam in Daniel’s eyes. “Now you’re one of a billion faceless humans. If you were one of us, you’d be a candle burning in the dark.”

Daniel huffed and rolled his eyes. He turned his head to the side and scowled down at the ground. Armand pressed his fingers to Daniel’s jaw to force him to look.

“They would spot you without fail,” the anger was rising again, just at the thought of it. “Don’t you know the old ones destroy the young ones out of hand? Didn’t your beloved Louis explain that to you?”

Quick flinch in Daniel’s expression, but he said nothing.

“It’s what I do everywhere that we settle—I clean them out, the young ones, the vermin. But I am not invincible.”

He let go of Daniel’s face, retracting his hand suddenly as if he’d been burned. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, then with a gentle touch and an apologetic smile he coaxed Daniel to walk again. They continued along the street in uneasy silence, and it occurred to Armand again that he should just lie, protect him, but there was such an ache of distrust rolling off of him now.

“I’m like any beast on the prowl,” he said softly. “I have enemies who are older and stronger who would try to destroy me if it interested them to do so, I am sure.”

Daniel was watching the sidewalk and his voice was quiet. “Older than you are? But I thought you were the oldest.”

“No, of course I’m not the oldest,” he looked out over the pond as they crossed the bridge towards _Hősök tere_. He’d been here with Louis once. “Merely the oldest your friend Louis was ever to find. There are others. I don’t know their names, I’ve seldom seen their faces. But at times, I feel them. You might say that we feel each other. We send our silent yet powerful signals. ‘Keep away from me.’”

They crossed the street into the square and stood for a time under the statue of the Archangel Gabriel. Slowly, they made the rounds about the colonnade, weaving in and out between the arches. Beneath Knowledge & Glory he tore a small hole in his neck, and pet the back of Daniel’s head as his mouth latched on, and he basked in the warmth and affection that mingled between their souls. Sometimes it was so easy to be mad, to only hear Daniel’s petulance, the selfishness, to only feel the dark, constricting press of being _used,_ but no lies in the blood. He rubbed a gentle, comforting pattern across the small of Daniel’s back and allowed himself to be soothed by the _love_ flowing through.

Minutes before dawn he sat in the corner of the temporary lair—no coffin today, only the safety of the light-tight crawlspace—and he rolled the golden jewelry back and forth in his fingers, watching as it shone in the candlelight. An old ritual, and one he hadn’t called upon in over a century. He remembered this very piece hiding at all times beneath the collar of Denis’s shirt, and remembered the vague, empty feeling of disappointment when he’d taken it back. The comforting weight of dawn was beginning to pull him under, but for the last few moments, while there was still time, he slashed across his palm and let the Blood fill the little vial. The consciousness was fading as the wound healed, and he breathed slow and deep and tried to sense if anyone else was out there.

Daniel was still sleeping at dusk, didn’t even wake as Armand came into his room and stood over the bed. Watching the boy’s peaceful, naïve face was an affirmation of this decision. The amulet made a hard shape in his breast pocket, and he tried to visualize the next step. Denis hadn’t understood it, not really, had accepted it gracefully and without question. But Daniel…

He kicked his shoes off and pulled the corner of the blankets back to slide in. Daniel didn’t wake completely, but stirred enough to roll over on his side and wrap his arm  around Armand’s chest.

It would be easy to do it now, to clasp it behind Daniel’s neck without a word. But he deserved an explanation, didn’t he?

Daniel deserved everything.

“Armand,” he mumbled, and he was pulling himself closer so that Armand could feel the press of arousal against his hip. It made him chuckle into the boy’s hair as they embraced. Yes, take care of him first. This first. Have him whining and sweating and spilling over their joined hands. Then starting the coffee while Daniel showered, and having cigarettes and room service ready for him when he was finished.

They sat at the little table by the window, Daniel staring out over the Danube while Armand simply stared at Daniel. There was the usual tension built into his frame—not from being watched, that didn’t bother him the way it used to, but he was still thinking about their argument. He drew slowly on his cigarette and barely tried to hide the way his fingers trembled around it, or the way the corner of his lip was shredded from worrying, or the angry red slivers of torn skin around his nails. _You’re watching me die._

Armand stood and came around the table.

“I have something for you, Daniel,” he said. Daniel kept his face still but his eyes flashed a quick betrayal of excitement.

He pulled the amulet from his pocket, and watched Daniel’s eyebrow quirk in curiosity. It was concealed safely between his palms and he raised them to his mouth as if in prayer.

“What is it?”

Daniel remained seated, and it was one of those rare times that he was looking up into Armand’s face. Armand stared down at him as he kissed the amulet, then rolled it back and forth in his hands. His body could feel that that the Blood inside was his, and it sparked and stung. It dangled and swayed on the chain as he finally pulled his hands apart, and let Daniel see. It glinted in the lamplight and Daniel’s eyebrows knit together. The wrinkle that it created in his forehead made Armand’s heart quicken.

“Here, snap the clasp if they come near you,” he said. He reached around to hook it in place beneath the unkempt, still-damp hair at the nape of Daniel’s neck. “Break the vial instantly. And they will feel the power that protects you. They will not dare—“

“Ah, you’ll let them kill me.”

He froze where he was.

“You know you will.”

Armand opened his mouth to speak, but the cold look in Daniel’s eyes made him stop.

“Give me the power to fight for myself.”

He took a step back.

What had Daniel told him? Slow breaths. Count to seven. You don’t need to breathe.

He’s not your pet. You’re watching him die.

But he was holding the amulet in his hand and twirling the chain around his fingers. His eyes narrowed as he took the final drag of his cigarette. The anger softened when he crushed it out in the ashtray and stood. Cold still, but crossing the space between them regardless, and folding Armand into his arms, and kissing the curls at the top of his head.

“This feels like a marriage proposal,” he said. The anger, the distrust was still smoldering just beneath the surface and hovering around him like vapor, but the effort was palpable. “So I guess I’m yours now.”

The instinct to lie fluttered in his gut, same as it always did, to protect him, to…

But he had lied, hadn’t he. He’d been lying for quite a while.

Daniel already was a candle burning in the dark.

 


End file.
